Impetus
by nyakattia
Summary: It turns out all he needed was the proper impetus... Snow Day postep. StellaFlack. Contains adult themes.


_just a little look has got me feeling things/ just a little touch has got me seeing things/ just a little taste has got me off the chains/ doing things that i don't want to_

Nelly Furtado, _Do It_

Flack sipped the lukewarm cup of coffee and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, trying not to think of all the ways his day could have been much worse. It was quiet now, in this small, out of the way waiting room; too quiet for his taste.

Adrenaline was a bitch.

Lindsay paused at the doorway. "Go home, Flack," she said tiredly.

He shook his head. "I'll stay here, you go get some sleep." Home was the last place he wanted to be right now.

She smiled grimly. "Unfortunately I have to go to work. There's a lot to clean up, and we need to get started right away. Evidence from fifty cases could be compromised." She sighed, undoubtedly thinking of the days of double and triple shifts spread that out in front of her.

"No rest for the wicked- or public servants," he replied, quirking the corner of his mouth upwards in the imitation of a smile. She impressed him, this woman who was his best friends girlfriend. He was glad they had finally gotten their acts together, although the timing could have been better.

"Something like that," she said. "You going to hang around?"

He shrugged, bringing his hands to cradle the cup in his hands. "Got nothin' better to do. I'll keep an eye on him."

She smiled at him. "Thank you- for everything." Crossing the room in a few steps, she planted an entirely sisterly kiss on his brow. "Get some sleep, you deserve it."

After she left time seemed to stand still in the small room. The lights were dimmed, contrasting with the fluorescent brightness of the lights in the corridor. Occasionally he heard footsteps nearby or hushed conversations that drew closer, then receded. But no one bothered him.

He drained the coffee in the cup and, after idly considering the angles, threw it towards the bin in the corner. Perfect.

"Good throw."

Speaking of impressive women... He looked up to find Stella leaning against the door frame. She looked damn tired, but her eyes were still bright. "Hey," he said.

She moved into the room and sank down into a chair next to him. From this distance he could detect the scent of her shampoo. For a moment he lost control of his mind and just wondered.

"I just checked on them," she said, interrupting his chain of thought. "They're sleeping now, of course. The doctors say they should make full recoveries."

He nodded. It was all information he had heard before.

She sighed and leaned forward a little, balancing her head in her palms and her elbows on her kneecaps. It reminded him that she had been a dancer once. She still moved like one, all long legged and graceful with it.

"You did good today," she said, turning her head towards him. "Detective Second Grade." She grinned.

He shook his head. "I ain't a second grade yet, Stell."

She shrugged, turning back to face the wall in front of them. "Expect it soon. Your name is already all over the news."

He laughed a little at that one. Ha ha. "I killed a man and Danny nearly ended up the same way. I put you all in harms way. It sure ain't my definition of doin' good."

"Don't cut yourself short," she insisted. "You took nine hundred kay of cocaine off the street. That's a lot of lives."

She had pulled her hair up, exposing her long neck to his wandering eyes. "I'm a cop. It's what I do."

She shook her head, dropping her hands to her lap but keeping her weary pose. "Above and beyond, Don."

He was rarely called by his first name by anyone other than family. He felt a little shiver creep down his spine at hearing it come from her mouth, instead of the usual pronunciation of his surname.

She smiled, turning a little in her seat to face him. "You know, the press is calling you a hero. Someone got wind of you being the negotiator at the warehouse, and first on scene at the lab. New York's Finest."

He blinked. "If I'm a fucking hero, I think it's about time I got the girl."

He curled one of his hands around the back of her neck and pulled her to him, meeting her lips with his own somewhere in the middle. He kissed her languidly, feeling her initial surprise wear off as she began responding to him.

His senses were filled with her, with the way she tasted, the way her smooth skin felt under his hand, the way she gasped just slightly as they separated for air. He breathed her in, and watched as her eyes briefly fluttered closed.

Everything else faded, and he could hear his heart thudding in his ears. He pulled her back to him, kissing her as he'd dreamed of. When he had been alone at night, or when he'd seen her stalking down a corridor in the lab, and his hands itched with the want to touch her.

The mood changed as he grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. Her eyes opened, a challenge in her gaze. Now it was a battle, just like any of the arguments they had had in the last four years. She matched him, as she always did, each seeking to gain control of the kiss.

He felt her smile against his lips and grinned back, placing his other hand on her side, thumb brushing against the swell of her breast. He felt the shiver, heard the gasp, and watched as her eyes darkened.

He let his hand drop from her neck, trailing down her side to rest on her hip. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, gripping on to his shirt, as he wrapped his other arm around her. Their mouths still connected, he tugged her over, palms sliding underneath her shapely ass as she shifted.

They broke apart as she moved with him, sliding one of her legs around him as he pulled her up and across his lap. It was awkward, and for a moment he thought she was going to slip off the seat. But their mouths joined back together almost seamlessly she settled herself, knees on each side on his legs.

She slid her hands up around his neck, sending shivers down his spine as she played with his hair. He pulled one of his hands up to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her curls, leaving the other resting on her lower back, holding her to him.

Her breasts pressed firmly into his chest, and he imagined them both naked, nothing between them. That thought still in his mind, he pulled her even closer, feeling his growing erection brush against her.

Abruptly the mood changed and she pulled back, her eyes hard. They were both breathing heavily, and he watched as she took quick breaths of air in and out.

"I am no man's fuck buddy, detective," she said, words as hard as her gaze.

He narrowed his eyes, incensed. "Fuck that." He kissed her again, fiercely, taking possession of her mouth as if to claim ownership of it.

"This isn't stress or adrenaline or any of that shit," he said when he pulled back. "I've been thinkin' about kissing you for months." Since he held her close in another hospital room, more than a year ago now.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You can't expect me to believe that."

He watched her carefully. "If you don't want this, you can go." Pulling his hands away, he settled them on her waist, and lifted her up and back off his lap. It was a little more difficult this time, neither distracted by the heat of the moment.

She slid off the seat, and found her footing on the ground below. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, and the way she pulled back from him as soon as she was sure of his footing. He stood, watching as she took a sharp step out of his way.

He smirked, and took a hold of her shoulder in one of his hands. Moving right back into her personal space, he threaded his other hand back into her hair, noting the disorder he had caused there earlier.

He kissed her again, already familiar with her taste, and the way she responded to him almost against her will. He could see through her brashness to the sheer vulnerability underneath. She may have a hard analytical mind, but she also nursed a soft heart. A bruised one.

He drew back, just a little. He kept one hand tangled in her hair and bought the other to her cheek. She looked up at him, craning her neck just a little so she could meet his eyes with her own.

"But if- when I take you home with me, it won't end there. I want you, Stella. In my bed. In my life," he said quietly.

He pulled away, distancing himself from her even as he ached to touch her again. He paused just as he turned to leave, half facing her. She crossed her arms over her chest, straightening her spine. The look she was giving him was very nearly a glare he had often seen directed at perps.

"Let me know," he said, and left.

He strode down the artificially lit corridor, barely paying attention to his route or the few people he passed on the way. Reaching the elevator, he pressed the button, shoving his other hand in his pocket.

Breathing in the scent of antiseptic that always made the remnants of the hole in his chest ache slightly. Trying not to think.

He very nearly banged his head against the closed elevator doors in front of him.

Fuck it.

Where was he meant to go now? It was early morning, very early morning. And even though he lived in the city that never slept, his gym was closed. Maybe he could take a walk. Or do the paperwork pilled up on his desk- though he doubted he could concentrate right now.

And he would never forget.

He heard the clack of her heels before she called his name.

"Don."

He waited a tense moment, then turned, looking back at her just as she stepped up beside him. She slid her hand into his and glanced up at him sideways. He saw the nerves in her eyes and the slight smile she sent him.

Now this was a much better way to start his day. The elevator doors opened and they stepped in together.

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A little panacea for the upcoming episode. Please review, and let me know what you think. Fiesta forever!


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